


ok

by deaneatscake



Series: tumblr fics [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Being Dean, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:02:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaneatscake/pseuds/deaneatscake
Summary: cas leaves after being been human for three days and seven hours (not that dean’s been counting).





	ok

cas leaves after being been human for three days and seven hours (not that dean’s been counting).

it’s not a big announcement, either. cas doesn’t own much, it all fits in a backpack, so when he’s slowly making his way to the garage _of course_ dean at first thinks that cas is – _whatever_ , doing some groceries shopping or getting pizza or burgers. he definitely doesn’t think about cas _leaving_.

yeah, things may have been a little bit unwelcoming for cas at first. of course dean had to scold him for recklessly using his last bit of grace in order to save dean – who would _do_ that, honestly – and yeah, maybe letting cas crash on the couch because they haven’t cleaned out the guest room yet is not the most thoughtful dean’s ever been.

but dean wants to get around arranging a new room for cas _eventually_ (and his hesitation doing this has definitely nothing to do with the fact that he’d love cas to just move in with him, _it hasn’t_ ). they have time now, for _everything_ , watching stupid movies, cooking together, maybe even have petty arguments together and then maybe – maybe they could make out, no, _make up_ , of course, and _anyway_ , dean digresses, all of this doesn’t mean that cas doesn’t want to be _here_ anymore.

except apparently, it does. because when cas sees dean standing in the hallway all he says is “oh. i just wanted to leave,” which, _in itself_ , is not the most alarming message. but the way he says it, the way his shoulders slump, the way he flinches – sends shivers down dean’s spine.

“oh yeah?” dean asks. “where ya going?”

“i… don’t know yet.” and with that, cas’ eyes drift away and dean’s too stunned to say something, _anything_ – not that cas seems to care either way. “i’ll go now. unless, of course, you need my assistance for something?”

“w– what? no,” dean stutters and that’s apparently the right – _or wrong? dean doesn’t know anymore_ – thing to say because now cas’ shoulders straighten and he nods shortly.

“…alright then. goodbye, dean.” and with that, he’s gone before dean can even process what’s happening. he realizes he could go after him, call after him, scream, shout, _cry_ , but – he does no such thing. because apparently this is what cas wants.

after that he locks himself inside his room and downs half a bottle of jack before sam announces that he’ll use the grenade launcher on this door if dean doesn’t up immediately.

“what have you done?” sam says without any warning, and it’s not _fair_. dean feels his eyes burning, but he’s not gonna cry, he’s _not_ , because cas wanted this, and there’s no use in crying over spilled milk, goddammit.

 _nothing_ , dean wants to answer. _i didn’t do anything wrong_ , he wants to believe. _it’s not my fault this dick thinks i have to roll out the red carpet just because he’s living here now._ _or whatever got his panties in a twist._

“i fucked up,” is all that comes out of his mouth, and then he actually stars to cry. sam thankfully doesn’t bother him when he slams the door shut in his face, lies down on the bed and downs the other half of the bottle because it hurts so, _so_ much.

dean lasts three days and seven hours before he shoots cas a text. it’s nothing much, just a _**‘hey, how’re you doing?’**_. he doesn’t get an answer. two hours later, he tries a _**‘hey, your black shirt is still here’**_. nothing. he contemplates asking _sam_ to text cas but he knows that he would just look at him with that – _that_ look and it wouldn’t help _anyone_.

the next day he gets a message. _**‘i’m fine’**_ it says. _**‘you can have the shirt’**_. _it’s my shirt you fucker_ , dean thinks, _i gifted that to you but apparently you have no idea what a fucking gift is._ and if he then throws his phone against the wall and has to head out into town to buy a new one, that’s his own fucking problem and no one else’.

‘ _ **ok**_ _ **’**_ he texts three days later because he’s a petty asshole and also because it took time to get a new sim card with his old number. he doesn’t want cas to know that he managed to break his old phone. none of his business.

he messes up their next hunt. if not for sam, he’d now be the meal of some werewolf – which he wouldn’t have minded _per se_ , but apparently sam did. one dislocated shoulder and enough pain meds to anesthetize a small elephant later he texts cas again because he’s fucking weak. _**‘were n springfield’**_ he writes. _ **‘wh r u?’**_

‘ _ **are you drunk?’**_ he gets back after thirty minutes. dean wants to write back, he really does, but he’s so tired, so goddamn _tired_ and before he can write _anything_ he passes out and dreams of elephants and antelopes and huge black chickens who scare the crap out of him. when he wakes up, his head hurts, his phone is on the nightstand and he’s covered with a blanket. no new messages from cas, which is probably the best for everyone involved.

it takes dean seven days, five beers, three weird-ass fancy cocktails and a lot of awkward flirting with a waitress to text cas again. he knows he shouldn’t, he _knows_ the waitress is just a few feet away serving another customer, but he can’t help it. _**‘i need you’**_ he writes and gets an immediate reaction.

‘ _ **case?**_ _ **n**_ _ **eed info**_ _ **’**_ dean snorts. or maybe it’s a cry, who knows. _**‘**_ _ **no’**_ he answers because it’s true. cas takes longer with an answer now and dean grows restless. suzie – susan – _whatever_ is bound to come back any minute now.

‘ _ **i’m not sure**_ _ **how**_ _ **i can help you then’**_ finally appears on his screen and now dean definitely wants to cry. _sonofabitch stupid fucker, who does he think he is, some kind of – some kind of low level_ _tech support guy, why would dean need him only for a case, can’t he see that,_ _that_ – but apparently, cas can’t. _**‘get me out of here’**_ dean writers because now susan is winking at him again and he winks back, he doesn’t want to, he _doesn’t_ , but he _has_ to, he doesn’t know how _not_ to.

‘ _ **i don’t have wings anymore’**_ – _yes,_ _and_ _that’s my problem with all of this, jesus_ , dean screams in his head – _**‘if you’re not in chamberlain right now i can’t come and get you’**_. and dean realizes that’s everything he needs, everything he ever wanted, a way to cas, and it’s suddenly the easiest thing in the world to shrug at susan and tell her “family emergency, sorry, gotta go”. she even believes him, which tells dean more about his emotional state than he needs to.

he makes it two blocks before he decides that he probably _shouldn’t_ drive 6 hours with that much alcohol in his system so he settles down for a short nap in the impala, not before shooting cas one last message. _**‘i’m coming to get you’**_ it says, _**‘i just need my four hours beauty sleep’**_.

‘ _ **why would you do that’**_ almost immediately follows and because dean doesn’t know how to say it, how to say _anything_ he actually means, he repeats _ **‘i need you’**_ and cas is a little fucker or maybe he just really doesn’t _get_ it because he answers _**‘i already got that’**_ – jesus, the audacity – _**‘**_ _ **but i don’t**_ _ **see**_ _ **how i can possibly be of use for you’**_.

that’s the last straw, it really is. _**‘**_ _ **fuck you’**_ dean writes and then he drives all the way anyway and it’s probably a combination of sheer luck and determination that he doesn’t drive the impala into a ditch.

he looks at his phone for the first time in six hours when he crosses the border to chamberlain because he realizes he has no idea where cas actually _is_. _**‘ok’**_ is the only thing cas had written ever since. dean takes a deep breath. _**‘where exactly are you’**_ he asks, knowing full well it’s still fucking early – barely 4am – and cas might very well be asleep. five minutes later he gets an address.

the address belongs to a run-down motel – thank god he doesn’t already have an apartment – but dean stops before he enters the parking lot because cas is there, right _there_ , sitting cross-legged on one of the empty parking lots, watching the moon’s slow descent.

he still doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for “hi” as a first thing. cas looks up and says “hello, dean” and that’s _heaven_ , right there. and dean should know because he’s already been there but it’s got nothing, nothing on seeing cas sitting there, barefoot and in nothing more than a shirt ( _dean’s shirt_ ) and a boxer shorts. it’s not even sexy, it just… _is_.

“i – i didn’t mean the fuck you,” dean says, nervously tip-toeing around the subject. now that he’s here it takes every last bit of will power to not sit next to cas and embrace him until the sun comes up. “i need you,” he says now, again, although he knows what he _should_ say instead. cas is silent which is probably the only appropriate response. dean finally _does_ sit down, but with a respectable distance between them. “why did you leave?” he asks because it’s safer to shift the blame to cas.

“i’m human, dean, in case you haven’t noticed,” cas says bitterly. “and considering that i have to eat and sleep and – and can’t heal you anymore i figured it would be better for me to leave. i considered staying because my infinite knowledge could help you with research… but i figured i could also do this per phone.”

dean doesn’t know what to say; or rather, he _does_ , but he’s not sure how these words could ever come out of his mouth. “we – i mean, i – i don’t need you for a case, _jesus_ ,” he finally says, “i need you because – because you’re fun, alright? you’re smart and your jokes aren’t _that_ bad and i like watching movies with you and i wanted to show you how to cook and we could have – we could have – done things. _been_ things.” it surprises dean how much he wishes that cas _does_ and _doesn’t_ understand what he wants to say. “i need you – i need you to come _back_ , okay?”

“just because you want to show me how to cook?” cas’ voice is undefinable. dean moves closer. now or never.

“cas, i need you to be honest with me, alright?” he knows it’s hypocritical coming from him, but he tries, _he tries_. “did you _want_ to leave?”

“of course not.” cas sounds incredulous now.

dean inches even closer, putting a hand on cas’ knee. it’s suggestive, but it’s safe enough in it’s own right. “i didn’t want you to leave either. look, i’m sorry, cas, okay? i don’t know – i don’t know what you want me to say, i don’t know what i even _can_ say, but… i _need_ you. i’ll probably need you… forever. for many things.”  

cas clasps his hand around dean’s and looks at him; they both look each other, silently. “ok,” cas finally says. dean lets out a sigh. “ok,” he agrees and after a three hour and seven minutes nap in the motel bed together, they leave (dean’s been counting).

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, come say hi on [tumblr](mijrake.tumblr.com)! I've also [posted this fic](https://mijrake.tumblr.com/post/162330409663/ok-1918-words-cas-leaves-after-being-been) on tumblr, you're more then welcome to reblog it *shamelessly self-promotes*


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